


home is where i want to be (but i guess i'm already there)

by syndullas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Everyone Needs A Hug, Force-Sensitive Hera Syndulla, Found Family, Ghost Crew Are Family (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Kanan Jarrus Lives, Multi, POV Hera Syndulla, So guess who is recycling that ideaaaa, This is all inspired by the fact that Padmé was supposed to be force sensitive when she was pregnant, What is a canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29953926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syndullas/pseuds/syndullas
Summary: It's been three months since the Liberation of Lothal, and things seem to return to some semblance of normalcy. Then again, Hera knows her crew to be anything but that.
Relationships: C1-10P | Chopper & Hera Syndulla, C1-10P | Chopper & Kanan Jarrus & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Hera Syndulla & Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Hera Syndulla, Hera Syndulla & Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus & Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	home is where i want to be (but i guess i'm already there)

**Author's Note:**

> hola!! welcome back to me not being able to cope with the ending of rebels and thus was created the kanan lives au. also a huge shoutout to @korloniumcrystals on tumblr for beta-reading this ♡
> 
> the title for this chapter comes from 'cavalier' by james vincent mcmorrow (which is coincidentally on my kanera playlist)

Hera was three months pregnant. She could still hear her own voice in the back of her head when she was younger, maybe sixteen, adamant in saying to one of the other girls in her class that she’d _never_ have children. She could laugh about that now.

The first two she had may not have been hers, but she loved them just as fiercely as she’d ever love her own flesh and blood. She wasn’t sure at what point she started seeing both of them as her own, but she couldn’t be more grateful. She missed Ezra as much as she ever could her own.

The first trimester had passed with as many complications as could fit; apparently her body seemed to dislike the idea of having a half human child and rebelled by morning sickness, constant nausea and terrible cramping. There had been worry of a miscarriage around a month ago but it had turned out to be a false alarm. That didn’t stop the medical droids from keeping an eye on her as much as she would allow. Chopper had to scare one of them off at one point when Hera was too dehydrated to do it herself.

But now, as she watched the night sky out of the window on Yavin 4, she couldn’t sleep. Usually by the end of the day she was so worn out she’d pass out as soon as she could force herself to have dinner, but tonight, there was no such relief. She was wide awake. She knew the rest of her crew was asleep. Sabine would usually sit with her until she fell asleep but tonight she’d been sent on a supply run and hadn’t returned. She’d turned Chopper in for the night already. She loved her droid but she only wanted her own company for the evening.

(That wasn’t true, she wanted to be alone with someone else, but he wasn’t here.)

She closed her eyes, uncomfortable in the chair she’s in. After the worry of last month, General Organa, Mon Mothma and General Dodonna had practically grounded her, too worried of what might happen if she flew her ship. The stakes grew higher each and every day. It wasn’t worth it.

She knew they were frightened for her well-being. But logically, at this point she was one of the best, if not the best pilot the rebellion had. She hadn’t wanted to put her own desires ahead of the rebellion and so – for now, she would stay on the ground, as much as it pained her.

Besides, she didn’t want to put her baby in danger either, as foolish as that sounded. As if being a pilot in the rebel alliance wasn’t danger enough.

She did miss flying. A lot, actually. She hadn’t had a break from it this long for as long as she could remember.

Hera needed to get out of this room. Sure she couldn’t fly, but that didn’t mean she was stuck here either. She gave Chopper an affectionate tap on his dome before leaving the room, knowing she should’ve taken him with her just in case. She wasn’t completely helpless, though.

She brushed her teeth before leaving the room, hating the stale taste. It was one thing she could manage on her own, so she would make the effort to do so.

Her floor is almost completely empty, everyone else seemingly asleep or wanting a break in the wee hours. Usually she’d wish she was asleep with them all, but the pregnancy fatigue had lifted marginally.

She reached the ground level in the elevator and was met with a nod from the sentry. She nodded back. The hangar was almost eerie at this time of night without the banter from the pilots as they polished up their ships.

She made her way out into the open air, but not before a familiar voice called out from behind.

“Burning the midnight oil?” It was Zeb.

She let out a laugh. “Something like that.”

“You sure you should be out alone?” He’s trying to sound nonchalant but she knew how much everyone seemed to be on high alert around her.

“I guess we’ll find out.” She set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m only going for a walk. I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head, resigned to the fact that even like this she was still as stubborn as ever. He stood there for a moment, watching her walk off into the distance. He knew she’d comm him if anything happened.

It was chillier than Hera thought but not unbearable. It was nice to feel the night air on her skin. The breeze was far more pleasant than any humid night she had back home where the wind seemingly disappeared each night to leave you unable to fall asleep. She’d take a night like this over that any day.

The greenery on this planet was something she was used to, reminding her of not being any older than six and going places back home with both her mother and father. She hadn’t had much of a chance to explore it here yet and she still wasn’t sure as to why she had decided tonight was the night for that, but she didn’t mind. It felt good to simply be doing something.

(The weight of everything settled a lot heavier when you were stuck in the same room.)

A rather large leaf ran across her face before she got the chance to swipe it away. The sound of the jungle around her was a particular kind of comfort. She could hear the insects humming away in the distance. She’d been walking for a while now. Her legs weren’t quite tired but she could certainly feel that they weren’t used to the lack of use.

As pretty as the jungle was, she missed Lothal. She missed the familiarity of it all, as much as she was terrified to go back. After the liberation, the Rebel Alliance was swift in returning the remaining members of the _Ghost_ back to base. It all felt so long ago now and yet, someone could tell her it was yesterday and she wouldn’t argue. Everything blended a bit in her head. She would put that up to not quite letting herself process it all yet. Or to be more accurate, as much as she should’ve let herself process. She hated it, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing so. She did it with her father when she was young and it had stuck with her ever since, it worked for the most part. You let things happen, you packed them away and you left them as they were. If you pulled at things too much they unraveled and it was - it just wasn’t an option.

She hadn’t even contacted her father to tell him about her child yet, she realised. She had only recently let him back in, so maybe that wasn’t a terrible decision. She knew her father had liked Kanan but whether or not he’d seen him as a suitable _partner_ for his daughter was another story.

She exhaled. She’d get around to telling him eventually. The last thing she needed was to tell him and then correct her message later. It felt terrible to think that way. (It would be just her luck at this point, really.)

The emdee had already given her an entire spiel about it. The statistics for human and Twi’lek children were almost at a normal birth rate but that didn’t rule out a multitude of complications. Considering she’d already ticked off many of them, well –

She sighed and sat on the moist ground, not wanting to stand any longer. She had kept down most of her food today but she still felt out of it. Her right hand fiddled with the moss on the rocks and plants beneath her. She put her free hand to her stomach, letting it drift softly back and forth.

She didn’t realise that she had started crying. She took a shaky breath, hoping in some way it would help.

“We can do this,” she whispered to no one but herself. “We can.”

Her voice is so quiet that she almost missed it against the sound of the jungle around her.

She looked up to the stars, the night sky so much prettier out here than from her room. From this angle it looked all the more inviting. Less light pollution from the base meant even more of the moons of Yavin were visible. She closed her eyes, still looking up, and bit her bottom lip.

Behind her eyes she sees it again. She’s not sure which moment she wants to focus on, if any of them at all, but she doesn’t seem to have too much choice. It was strange to watch it back and not be able to change it, no matter how much she wished she could.

_Hera._

Her name reverberated not only through the air but through her head. Numerous voices saying her name in unison. They’re all so close and yet they all sound so -- different?

She saw Ezra, the brilliant green from his lightsaber illuminating the wolves behind him. Their eyes pierced through her. She saw the wolves again, as she did the last time. The leader of the pack meeting and holding her gaze before disappearing from view.

_The Leader._

The Leader?

(If she was more aware she would have argued with the technicalities of who that title belonged to.)

Kanan?

_The First Spectre._

“What do you mean Kanan?” She asked, it’s lost to the air of Yavin around her but not to whoever she’s with. Or whatever she’s with.

_Dume_ ,

came the answer.

She saw a different Loth wolf now, not the one she saw before but a larger, black one with three markings on its head. She had never seen it back on Lothal.

_Three_.

The hands on the mural. There were three of them, open, closed and turned. The hands stuck unchanging for so long. Stuck?

_Stuck._

The hands hadn’t changed until Ezra moved them.

_Three. Open.Closed.Turned. Open.Closed.Turned._

Hera was three months pregnant. The chrono in her pocket would’ve read the same number had she looked at it.

_Three.Three.Three._

All she had smelt the entire time was smoke, not once had she seen it.

_Find him._

She wasn’t sure which one of her boys the last whisper is referring to, but it doesn’t matter.

And with that it feels like she’s slammed back into her own body. It felt the same as when she slammed off the engine, lost altitude and let the _Ghost_ drop, her stomach slipping all the same. She loved the feeling. Her fingers dug into the dirt. Whatever that was just rivalled the most exhilarating yet terrifying moments she’d felt so far, even more than Thrawn or death or crashing, because she knew _whatever_ that was… it was the Force.

Hera knew with every fibre of her being that she was not sensitive to it, but that was undeniably what she had just felt. Nothing knew you as intimately, or could call upon things like that as it did. She’d heard enough from Kanan about it to know with a burning certainty. She had no idea how long that had lasted but it was long enough that she was damp with a layer of early morning dew. She propped herself up against a rock and attempted to return to base, walking a little more consciously than she had before. Something hummed in her to tell her that to find one, would mean to find the other. She knew it wasn't just a manifestation of her wishful thinking.

(Something something about a master and an apprentice.)

It all scared the living kriff out of her but, he — _Kanan_ — was alive. She hadn’t exactly been told that but she felt it. She _knew_ it. And now, she was going to do something about it.

**Author's Note:**

> and then i said to mr cowboy hat my canon now.. for real tho thank u for reading and stick around bc there will be more chapters (just don't ask when lol) reviews are kisses on the forehead ♡


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